


I Need You To Need Me Too

by devilsduplicity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-01
Updated: 2011-04-01
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilsduplicity/pseuds/devilsduplicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam said "yes" a long time ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Need You To Need Me Too

**Who:** Sam/Lucifer  
 **What:** Sam said "yes" a long time ago.  
 **When:** Beginning of Season 5  
 **Word Count:** 1,290  
 **Warnings:** PG, fluff

Sam never says "no". He's not in his right mind when Lucifer contacts him for the first time, but on the second visit, he knows exactly what to do.

They write up a contract beforehand. Sam outlines it in ink, Satan etches it in stone. There are certain points that they disagree on, and a few inadvisable ultimatums thrown in, but after several hours of discussing the details, they both come to an accord.

Lucifer can't kill anyone that Sam has ever cared about, even if their memories have been long-since forgotten in the vast whir of sentience Sam's since been living. That means Dean and Castiel, Bobby, Ellen and Jo. His elementary school teacher from when he was much younger, or the kind lady who'd bought him a Pepsi at the vending machine years ago when dad had gone on one of his hunts. He can't kill, or harm, or enslave them, nor can any of the demons or Horsemen. And if a "natural event" that is caused, in any way, by him or one of his factions happens to wipe them out, that makes the contract void as well.

Lucifer can't destroy Stanford. Stanford holds a special place in Sam's heart as a retreat from his family, and the crazy life he'd grown up in. He can't destroy Kansas, either. Dean likes Kansas.

Sam requests to be unconscious during any killing sprees, to which Lucifer readily agrees, but during any regular activity Sam will remain conscious and in full control of his faculties. Lucifer only gets to drive when it's really, detrimentally important. But since the Devil isn't particularly fond of having any semblance of weakness thrust upon him, his consolation is the ability to tote his temporary vessel along for the ride, which he can possess any time he isn't allowed control. Sam protests this idea for a very long time, but can't find a way around it, in the long run.

Lucifer asks him, "Is there anything else?"

Sam says, "Yeah. Of course."

There has to be a safe place -- a plot of land that will remain completely untouched and untainted. Lucifer wants a New World, okay, fine, but Sam's sorta fond of the Old World, and he can understand the Devil's sentiments about how dirty and degraded humanity is, but that doesn't give Lucifer the right to kill _everyone_.

They create an island next to New Zealand that's roughly the size of Colorado. It's bold, and beautiful, and full of lush greenery and the best tasting fruit Sam's ever had ( _You should've tended orchards_ , Sam says, and Lucifer smiles, offers him an apple). Sam teaches the Devil how to chop down trees and build houses, how to fashion a branch into a spear to catch dinner. Lucifer says these mindless acts of destruction are unnecessary. Sam says, when you're building a home for yourself, nothing is unnecessary.

They spend a week making these preparations. Sam is still separated from Dean, but he's looking out for his brother all the same.

The contract is signed in blood. Sam takes a knife and pricks his thumb. Lucifer does the same, and is surprised to find that he actually bleeds.

"You're going to kill a lot of people," Sam asks, but it's not really a question.

Lucifer nods, says softly, "Yes."

"Try not to kill the good ones."

 

*******

 

Sam lives in his own little hut on that patch of new land. Dean's on the other side of the island, still upset, and once word got around that Sam was Lucifer's shiny new convertible, the other couple hundred people on the island started to avoid him as well.

He's alone, and a little bit lonely, but Satan visits him a couple times each week. At first it had been strictly for business. He'd show up, say, "I need you," and Sam would nod, say, "Alright." A couple hours later, sometimes days, sometimes weeks, Sam would wake up on the sandy beach outside of his home in the dead of night, startled into consciousness from the tickling sensation of the tide lapping at his feet. Usually, he's in decent condition, if not a little cold. Once or twice, his clothes had been burned off his body in charred patches. His body remained in perfect condition.

As time stretched on, however, the circumstance changed a bit. Sam would wake up on the floor of his hut, then on the couch, then on the bed. If his clothes were torn to pieces, he'd find a new pair hanging up in his closet.

Lately, Sam thinks Lucifer has been getting a little bit lonely, too.

The first time the Devil stops by for a social visit, Sam doesn't know what to do with himself. Lucifer pops in without warning, a patch of empty space suddenly filled before Sam's eyes. Minutes pass of soft greetings, and when a dead silence settles around them, Sam asks, "So, do you need me?"

And Lucifer says, "Not today."

Sam rocks back on his heels, surveys the angel in front of him, but he doesn't question the answer he's been given; any moment or reprieve is a good one.

"Okay."

They stand in the quiet for a little bit, then the Devil breaks it with a tilt of his head.

"Show me how you cook."

It's an odd request, but Sam doesn't miss a beat. He goes outside to the little stream in the woods and spears a fish for dinner; brings it back in, cuts it up, cooks it in a lemon marinade with a variety of spices. Lucifer's first bite gives him cause for pause, and then he's blinking softly, saying, maybe those mindless acts of destruction aren't so unnecessary after all.

A couple nights later, Sam wakes up to find Lucifer laying beside him, face-up on top of the covers. His pose looks reminiscent of a corpse.

"Do you sleep?" Sam asks, stretching his long, lean body. He's too accustomed to Lucifer's presence to feel awkward about this.

"If I want to," Lucifer replies, and Sam huffs out a laugh.

"I'll fix you bacon and eggs for breakfast."

Lucifer doesn't respond -- closes his eyes and listens to Sam make the aforementioned preparations. Nearly half an hour later, a light touch to his knee makes him crack open his eyelids once again.

"Scoot up."

The Devil does as he's told, moves higher on the bed until his back is propped up by the headboard. Sam hands him a plate with more food on it, then steps back and crosses his arms.

"If you don't like it, you don't have to eat it."

Lucifer likes it, eats all of it; stays until the sun is setting below the horizon, and Sam is crawling back into bed. Lucifer hasn't moved from his position on the mattress, has been lost in thought all day, but the dip of weight beside him makes him realize he's no longer alone.

"Sam," he says a few hours later, and Sam's heavy breathing replies. Lucifer unfolds one of his hands from his lap, then reaches out to his right and buries his fingers in the human's unruly hair. "I need you to need me too."

  
 


End file.
